


Ghosts in the Sand

by eldritchwhorrer



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bounty Hunters, Consensual, F/M, Mos Pelgo (Star Wars), Pantorans (Star Wars), Reader-Insert, The Mandalorian (TV) Season 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 13:08:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30055947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eldritchwhorrer/pseuds/eldritchwhorrer
Summary: (Y/n), a female pantoran, can't shake the memory of a certain night at Mos Pelgo with a certain charming Marshall. She finds herself returning to the dusty town a year later, unsure of what she'll find, or if she can even admit what she's looking for...
Relationships: Cobb Vanth & Original Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	Ghosts in the Sand

**Author's Note:**

> first time publishing my fan fiction, feel free to lmk what you think! or what other fandoms or pairings you'd want me to write; I'm lookin for ideas. I'll also mark which chapters have ze ~smut~ so you can skip them or read as you want
> 
> hope you enjoy <3

People forget; but the land does not. Mos Pelgo is one of those places. With the blistering heat of the twin suns, and sand dunes as far as the eye can see, it’s easy to overlook. Tattooine has tried to swallow it whole many times, but somehow, the planet has never won that battle.  
The shambling outpost can barely be called a town anymore, having been through hell and back over the past few years. Only the resilient and resourceful can survive there, and they bury their secrets in the sand, along with their loved ones lost, in order to move on. The desert is unforgiving and won’t wait for your grief.  
I’m no fan of the Empire, and though Mos Pelgo is liberated from those talons - and free from the greedy crime syndicates- I try to avoid it. Try to avoid Tattooine altogether, in fact.  
But here I am, sand stinging my skin, peering through my sun-goggles to assess this scathing terrain. I am close to Mos Pelgo now, and I pretend that my only reason for stopping there is for refueling my speeder and renewing my provisions.  
It’s a whole load of bantha fodder, but I still pretend.  
Who am I kidding? I am hoping to see him again. I’ve met all sorts of rogues and brigands, cassanovas and charlatans before. I’m not easily flattered by charming people; I know how fleeting their affection can be. And besides, lovers have come and gone in my life, and I’ve convinced myself that I don’t need anything more. With a job like mine, in a galaxy like this, why would I go looking for a partner?  
So when he smiled at me across from the dingy little cantina, for the very first time, of course I didn’t trust him. I’m not that stupid.  
But what happened between us then, during my first trip to Mos Pelgo, I couldn’t have guessed. I hate to admit that a certain night won't leave my memory. That a certain night has me hoping he'll still remember my name. Because even though I first met him over a year ago, he’s still found me late at night, floating through my less-than-appropriate thoughts, when the stars of the outer rim are my only company. His smile is anything but cold or dead, like the grin of deep space. And as much as I hate to admit it, I have an admiration for this man who thrives against all odds.  
The Marshall of Mos Pelgo.

This place is a ghost town. Not because it’s abandoned, but rather because the dead won’t leave it alone. A chill runs down my spine as I slow my speeder to a halt, but I make sure my body language doesn’t betray my unease.  
I’ve told you that I didn’t like coming back here. And it’s not just because my Pantoran skin betrays that I come from a much different part of the galaxy. The deep blue I was born with is already a darker shade than most of my kind, and while I love it, I don’t particularly ‘blend in’.  
No, the unease is the haunting. It’s the blood spilt, and the continued tension between the Sand People and the inhabitants of Mos Pelgo. If only the latter would show some diplomacy and respect for the people that have roamed these wilds for eons. Maybe they could come to a compromise. Perhaps you can tell I feel strongly about this subject. I don’t expect peace in any populated corner of the galaxy, but this desolate place disturbs a part of me I cannot name. 

So why in the galaxy would I come back?

The first time I chanced this way, I was following a bounty and trying to be as discreet as possible. I don’t often take bounties on people, opting to retrieve relics and other mystic elements instead. That’s my true speciality, but I’m not one to turn down a good job. I had two companions at the time, a twi’lek friend who was making good on a promise, and a droid I’d commissioned specially for the job. We’d determined that there was someone in Mos Pelgo who held the missing piece of a hologram we needed.  
I didn’t want to make waves. I just wanted to complete the mission, to be tactile. I don’t like complications, I don’t like leaving a mark. Better that the number of people affected by my work be kept to a minimum. Killing don't sit right with me but I’ve got a sharp aim with a blaster and a quick hand nevertheless. Some things can’t be avoided.  
Back then, we arrived at Mos Pelgo when the sunset had already spilled over the horizon, dripping pink and red. Dusty and tired from the journey, I figured a visit to the cantina was in order. It would allow for us to cool off and rest, and at the same time, would provide the opportunity to feed the local people our fabricated story and avoid too much suspicion. Clean cut, right?  
Except of course, nothing could be easy.  
Of course, this *had* to be the day that my life would be blown apart. Even if I didn't know it yet.  
Cause this was the day I'd meet him.


End file.
